


Into the Woods

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-28
Updated: 2005-11-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Ron and Hermione are on a mission from the Order and have to camp in Sherwood Forest for the Night.





	Into the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Written for the Ron/Hermione fqf on Livejournal.  Thanks to  Thanks to [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=simons_flower)[**simons_flower**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/simons_flower/) for the beta and feedback. 

I hope you enjoy 

* * *

This was the worse assignment he had ever been forced to take. He was traipsing through the woods with Hermione Granger, on the pretense of protecting her, and quite frankly he didn't like Sherwood Forest all that much.  
  
It wasn't like Hermione had ever really needed his protection; in fact, he was fairly sure she didn't. She had a wicked wand and his hands still had a couple of scars from the damn canaries she had set upon him in sixth year. She knew spells that even he didn't know.  
  
Harry was supposed to be with them but, at the last minute, the Order felt that it wouldn't be a good idea to send them both into the field. So Ron was forced to follow behind Hermione while she searched for the final ingredient for a potion that might save Harry's life in the final battle with Voldemort.  
  
Half the problem was that he and Hermione had agreed to put their relationship on hold until Voldemort was defeated. She said that it would be too distracting to them and to Harry. Harry had set an example with Ginny and they needed to follow. Ron had agreed, thinking they would defeat Voldemort quickly, and finally they could be together. It hadn't worked out that way—Voldemort went in hiding three years ago. The tension between the two of them was almost unbearable now—every touch, every look, and every gesture held the promise of heat, of passion, and unspoken love. It was driving Ron out of his mind and he firmly believed it was more distracting not being together than being together.  
  
"Ron," Hermione stopped abruptly and he ran into her. She stumbled and his arms automatically wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling. "We're going to have to stay here tonight."  
  
He felt her tremble and heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke. His arms felt hot where they touched her and he was having trouble working up the strength to release her. She struggled in his arms briefly and he reluctantly let her go.  
  
"Stay here?" Ron looked around. "In the forest?"  
  
She rolled her eyes at him and began pulling items out of her backpack.  
  
"Of course I mean the forest"." She rummaged through her bag and pulled out several pieces of fabric. "I've got a tent…I shrunk it down so that it would fit in my bag."  
  
 _Of course she did! Did she not understand what sleeping in a tent with her was going to do to him?_  
  
He frowned as Hermione raised her wand and flicked it twice. The tent was barely big enough to hold him and he could only hope that it was larger on the inside. Hermione hummed as she went about enlarging two sleeping bags. He swallowed hard as she bent over and tossed them into the tent.  
  
"All right then." She turned to face him and he immediately shifted under her gaze. "We just have to start a fire and mirrorcall Harry. You know how he worries when we don't contact him."  
  
Ron stood there, trying desperately to think of an excuse…any excuse that would get the two of them out of this. If he suggested they give up for today Hermione would lambaste him about his duties to Harry. However, if he **had** to sleep in a tent with her he wasn't sure he could control himself.  
  
The sky was growing steadily darker as Hermione pulled the mirror out of her backpack to call Harry. _Just how much stuff does she have in there?_ Ron wondered and Hermione waved him off when he tried to look over her shoulder at the mirror.  
  
"Why don't you start a fire?" Hermione asked. "I'll take care of this bit with Harry and we can eat."  
  
Ron could smell the hint of vanilla in her hair from her shampoo and he leaned in a bit closer. He heard her inhale sharply through her nose as he pressed against her and felt the tremor that ran through her body. Ron stiffened for a moment and she turned in his arms. They were close together, so close he could feel her breasts brushing against his chest, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He gazed down at her and watched her lick her lips and he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he said blast it all and kissed her right then and there. Of course, in the end, his common sense won out and he stepped away from her—he thought for a moment he saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.  
  
"Right." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'll just go get some wood while you call Harry."  
  
Ron turned and he heard her huff as he headed into the bushes to gather wood for a fire. He took his time, trying to regain control of his emotions and failing miserably. He wanted Hermione desperately but more than that he loved her—he wanted everything with her and it was driving him mad that she was so bloody stubborn about it. He could hear her now, _It wouldn't be fair to Harry. He gave up Ginny so he could focus on the task at hand. You should be more than willing to sacrifice just a little bit_ Ron rolled his eyes as her voice filled his head and he wondered what she would say if she knew that Ginny and Harry were sneaking around.  
  
He stayed gone as long as he could she would come looking for him if he didn't get back and he sighed as he picked up a final piece of wood. When he arrived back at the campsite he found her arranging rocks in a small circle and he dumped the wood next to her.  
  
"That should be enough to hold us all night."  
  
Hermione glanced over at him and her lips quirked up at the corner. "I imagine it will you've got half the forest there."  
  
Ron shrugged. "I just didn't want any of the bloody animals in this forest to decide we'd make a far better supper than their usual prey." He paused when his stomach growled. "You mentioned food?"  
  
"I've got some canned soup, crackers, and tea bags in my backpack," Hermione began, stacking the wood. "I'll cook supper as soon as I get this fire started."  
  
Ron laughed, "No way, Hermione. I'll take care of supper and the tea. Last time you cooked Harry wound up in St. Mungo's with food poisoning."  
  
Hermione glared at him. "I'm never going to live that down, am I? Honestly, the recipe said to marinate over night it didn't specify that you should refrigerate too."  
  
Ron licked his lips as he studied her: her face was flushed, her eyes sparkled, and once again he was overwhelmed by his feelings for her.  
  
"See, had you just done it the Wizarding way like Mum showed you," Ron muttered. "Never mind—you get the fire started and I'll get the food."  
  
He summoned Hermione's backpack and rifled through it as she waved her wand over the wood and cast _Inflamari_ on it. It wasn't long before a fire was crackling happily and Ron was making two cups off soup in the tin cups Hermione had brought along with her.  
  
"Do you think we'll find the plant tomorrow?" Ron asked as Hermione went over her notes. "We're getting to the end of the blooming season right?"  
  
Hermione nodded as she went over her notes. "Neville said that it has to be picked at the height of the bloom so I'd say we have to get it no later than tomorrow night."  
  
"You really believe this will work?" Ron stretched out and crossed his ankles. "I thought blood magic was dark magic."  
  
Hermione glanced up at him and tucked her notebook back her in her backpack. She ran a hand through her hair and tucked several curls behind her ear before answering.  
  
"It can be," she said, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "The type we are using is for protection and the intent is good. I don't know Ron, I hope it works because I'm afraid."  
  
Ron handed her the cup of soup and several packages of crackers before studying her. She did look tired, there were new lines around her eyes, light purple circules under her eyes, and frown lines in the corners of her mouth.  
  
"What are you afraid of?" he asked after taking a bite of the soup. "Hermione?"  
  
She nibbled on the edge of a cracker and avoided his eyes. He didn't think she was going to answer but finally she did. "Everything…I'm afraid of everything. I'm afraid I'm going to die, I'm afraid that Harry is…I'm afraid you'll sacrifice yourself for Harry and…" Her voice trailed off. "I'm afraid of losing."  
  
Ron swallowed hard and considered his words carefully before speaking. The last thing he wanted to do was bollocks this up by saying the wrong thing. _You usually do say the wrong thing, Weasley._ He quickly told his inner voice to bugger off and reached out to cup her cheek.  
  
"Hermione, I'm afraid too," he said softly. "Not for myself but for you and Harry. I believe everything will be okay, that we'll win because we chose to fight for the right side."  
  
She leaned into his touch and his thumb brushed a stray tear from the apple of her cheek. Their eyes were locked without need for words. In that moment of utter stillness their feelings flowed between them as if they were a living presence. She turned her head and kissed his palm before drawing away from him.  
  
"I'm going to bed," her whispered, voice breaking. "Can I have your shirt?"  
  
"My shirt?" Ron squeaked. "What do you need my shirt for?"  
  
Hermione stood slowly and rolled her eyes. "I'm not sleeping in these clothes. I'll be too hot and, besides, you can sleep in your boxers. It's not like I can strip down to my knickers."  
  
"Sure you can, Hermione." Ron waggled his eyebrows as he tried to lighten the tension between them. "I promise not to peek."  
  
"In your dreams, Weasley," Hermione retorted. "Now hand over that shirt."  
  
He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and felt her eyes following his every movement. He saw her swallow hard when he shrugged it off and handed it to her. He felt his ears heat with embarrassment.  
  
"Are you coming to bed?" Hermione's voice was slightly breathless when she spoke and she shifted from one foot to the other.  
  
"I'll be in as soon as I get the fire going strong enough to last the night." He paused. "I won't be long."  
  
She ruffled his hair as she passed by him and he turned to watch her crawl into the tent. His mind was filled with the image of Hermione stripping down to her knickers, unhooking her bra, and he adjusted himself before tossing more wood onto the fire. He was not going to sleep a wink and knowing she was so close to him and still untouchable was going to drive him mad. He stared at the fire for a few moments before tossing a few more pieces of wood onto it.  
  
He tried to give her long enough to fall asleep before standing and making his way to the tent. He shucked off his jeans and trainers outside, knowing he would never be able to change inside, and crawled into the tent. Hermione was turned on her side, facing the back wall of the tent, and Ron slid into his sleeping bag. The tent was smaller than it looked on the outside and he could feel the heat radiating from her body as he shifted to get comfortable. He rolled onto his side facing Hermione and was immediately surrounded by her hair. He could smell her shampoo, the hint of tea surrounding her, and felt his cock twitch.  
  
"Ronald," Hermione snapped. "Do you have to breathe so loud? I swear you sound like a winded hippogriff!"  
  
"Well maybe if your hair wasn't in my face," Ron muttered, "I wouldn't be gasping for air."  
  
"Why don't you move over then?" Hermione spat out, using her foot to push at his legs.  
  
"Where exactly did you want me to move, Hermione?" Ron sat up and hit his head on the roof. "It's not exactly spacious in here!"  
  
"We wouldn't be having this problem if you weren't the size of a miniature giant!" Hermione sat up and glared at him. "Honestly, Ronald, just go to sleep!"  
  
"You know what?" Ron practically shouted and unzipped the entrance to the tent. "I will! Outside, where I won't suffocate in your hair!"  
  
"Fine!" Hermione snarled. "Maybe I'll actually get some sleep without you wheezing in my ear!"  
  
Ron crawled out of the tent and stood up slowly. His cock tented his boxers. He looked down and muttered, "Traitor."  
  
He paced back and forth in the clearing, ignoring the thunder rolling in the distance. She was going to be the death of him and if she ever knew how much arguing with her turned him on she would be mortified. When they were at Hogwarts he used to bicker with her just to see her skin flush. He often imagined that's how she would look after—  
  
"Bloody hell." He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Lightning flashed in the sky and Ron looked up at the rapidly fading starlight. "Bloody hell!"  
  
He continued to pace as the first drops of rain hit his bare shoulders. He brushed them off almost from habit. Her stubbornness was driving him mad. He wasn't allowed to show her how he felt, he couldn't touch her, and he sure as hell couldn't just press his lips to hers and snog her senseless. It was unfair…He'd willingly lay down his life for Harry but did he have to give up all his chances for happiness?  
  
The skies picked that moment to open up and Ron glanced up at the heavens as rain pelted down onto him. It clung to his eyelashes, ran in cold rivers down his bare chest and back, and his hair quickly became matted to his head.  
  
"Fuck!" Ron lifted his fist and shook it. "Perhaps you'd like to just strike me down with a bolt of lightning too!" He stomped his foot, working himself into a fine temper, and shouted, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"  
  
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione snarled from behind him. "Stop cursing and get back in the tent. It's pouring and you're going to get sick."  
  
"You are not my mother." Ron stomped his foot again, splattering mud all over his legs. "You can't tell me what to do."  
  
She crawled out of the tent to stand in the pouring rain. Her curls quickly flattened, and the shirt she was wearing early quickly became soaked and transparent. Ron could see the outline of her nipples against her shirt and his cock twitched.  
  
"Someone has to take care of you." Hermione pushed her wet hair from her forehead and move towards him. She took hold of his arm and tried to pull him towards the tent. "Come on, Ron!"  
  
Ron planted his feet firmly and she tried to tug him along. He wasn't getting back in that tent with her…no way in hell.  
  
"No, Hermione," he hissed as her fingers brushed over the sensitive skin of his wrist. "I'm not getting back in that tent."  
  
She whirled around to face him, water streaming down her cheeks, and tightened her grip on his wrist.  
  
"Ronald, you're being a prat!  
  
"I am not! I just can't be in that tent with you." Ron looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. "You're so bloody stubborn Hermione. You think we're being noble by denying—"  
  
"Ron, we've been over this." Hermione sighed with more than a hint of frustration in her voice. "We can't because of Harry. He gave up Ginny—"  
  
Ron snorted, "So you think but living with him makes you privy to more than a few secrets. Why do we have to give up—"  
  
"Just come to bed, Ronald." Hermione tugged his arm again. "It won't be long now and we can be together."  
  
"I'm not getting in that tent with you," Ron growled and tugged his arm free from her grip. "I'll be fine out here and—"  
  
"Ron, why won't you just get in the tent?" Hermione stomped her foot, splashing him with more mud. "Why?"  
  
Ron gazed down at her: her cheeks were flushed, water clung to her hair, slid in small streams down her face, her eyelashes glistened, and when his gaze fell on her mouth he watched as she licked away several drops of water that gathered there.  
  
"You want to know why?" Ron practically snarled, gripping her arms tightly to pull her closer.  
  
"Yes, I want to know why you're being a prat!" Hermione shouted.  
  
Her shout, coupled with the throbbing in his cock, caused the last of his self-control to break. He hauled her against his body. He slid one of her hands down the middle of his chest and over the front of his boxers.  
  
"That's why," he growled, pressing her small hand against the erection tenting the front of his boxers.  
  
Her fingers flexed against him and he saw stars. He slid his hand up to tangle in her hair and brought his lips down on hers. Her mouth opened beneath his as he darted his tongue along the seams of her lips. A low growl resonated through him when, instead of moving her hand away from his cock, she squeezed.  
  
He felt his knees go weak as she continued to run her hand up and down his cock. When her fingers slipped inside the opening of his boxers, Ron's knees gave out and he pulled her to the ground with him. He bowed his head, struggling to regain control over his traitorous body. His fingers trembled, his breathing sounded ragged in his own ears, and when Hermione leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of his head he shivered.  
  
"Ron," she murmured huskily. "It's muddy…we should go inside the tent…" He met her eyes and found them dark with desire. He could drown in her eyes. His hands slid to the buttons on her shirt and his eyes never left hers as he wrenched the fabric in two. "Ron, I don't want to get—"  
  
He claimed her lips again, his tongue brushing hers, and slid his hand up to cup her breast. He ran his thumb over her nipple, circling it, and she whimpered against his lips. Her tongue thrust into his mouth, teasing his, and her nails raked up and down his back. He couldn't get enough of her and he couldn't imagine anything ever being as good again. He tore his mouth from hers, pressing kisses to her eyes, her cheeks, trailing his lip to her ear and he nipped the tender skin of her earlobe.  
  
"I—" His voice cracked. "I love you, Hermione. I want you so much…I can't think half the time. I want you to be mine, I want to make love to you, and I want to watch you fall apart in my arms."  
  
"Oh god," Hermione moaned as Ron trailed his lips down her neck. "We shouldn't…Oh god…" She whimpered as he sucked on her pulse point. "It would be wrong—"  
  
Ron dipped his head and darted his tongue over her breast. He circled her nipple with the tip before suckling her. Her hands tangled in his hair and she pressed her lower body against his. Ron slid his hand to her neglected breast and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger before lifting his head.  
  
"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered. "I'll stop…I'll leave you alone if you tell me you don't love me, that we can't be together. I'm tired of waiting Hermione. You have to decide."  
  
She bit her lip and their eyes locked. Ron knew it was now or never. She was either going to tell him that they couldn't be together or that she loved him. There was no grey area with Hermione. It was one of the things he both loved and hated about her.  
  
"Please, Hermione." Ron knew he was begging and he saw something shift in her eyes. They lost some of their determination and she slid her hands up to cup his cheeks. Her thumbs fanned over his cheeks, her eyes met his, and he felt her fingers tremble.  
  
"I love you, Ron," she whispered. "I don't want to wait anymore either. I'm tired of touching myself and pretending it's you."  
  
"Oh fuck," Ron whispered as the image of Hermione touching herself flooded his mind.  
  
"Language, Ronald," Hermione huffed before claiming his lips again.  
  
Her confession seemed to open something in her, unlocked a door where she hid all her passion, and Ron moaned as her hands traced the lines of his body. The rain pelted over them, causing their skin to become slick, and Ron let his hand wander down the smooth plane of her stomach. He toyed with the elastic on her knickers before delving inside. His fingers slid through her folds and he was stunned to feel how wet she was. Her mouth left his to trail a line of kisses down his neck and he felt her moan against his shoulder as he circled her clit with the tip of his finger.  
  
"Wet," he moaned as she tugged his nipple between her teeth. "So wet…"  
  
Her hands slid into his boxers and closed around his cock. He moaned as she stroked him and when she ran a thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum that was there, he cried out in pleasure. She gave a low, wicked, laugh that turned into a moan as he slid two fingers into her pussy. She pushed frantically at his boxers, freeing his erection, and began stroking him firmly.  
  
"Oh…" Ron breathed as he writhed against her fingers. "That feels…so…good…fuck, Hermione…"  
  
Their lips met in an open mouth kiss, tongues meeting in the air before their lips actually met, and Hermione used her free hand to pull the two of them backwards into the mud. Ron's hand tore at her knickers as she pushed his boxers down completely with her feet.  
  
"Please…" Hermione arched her back when he dipped his head to capture her nipple in his mouth. "Please…"  
  
Ron could feel her wetness against his cock, could feel her heat beckoning him, and lifted his head to stare at her for a moment.  
  
"I need my wand…" he muttered and pressed against her. "Contraceptive…"  
  
"It's okay," Hermione moaned as his cock slid through her folds, bumping her clit, and she took him in her hand to guide him to pussy. He felt he wetness once again against the tip of his cock and trembled with the effort of holding back. "I'm on a potion. Please, Ron… I want you inside me."  
  
He didn't want to think about why she was on a birth control potion, he only wanted to think about claiming her, making her his, and thrust his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her. She cried out in discomfort. Ron froze above her, his eyes widening as they met hers, and realized she was still a virgin. He hadn't been with anyone since Lavender and they certainly hadn't gone this far…  
  
"Hermione—" His arms trembled as he held himself still above her. "I didn't know…Oh …" She shifted beneath him, her eyes widening in pleasure, and he flexed inside her. "We're each other's firsts…"  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise and she whispered, "Mine."  
  
He pulled back slightly and pushed forward again. "Mine."  
  
Ron's vision clouded as he drove his cock into her pussy. She was so tight and warm and it was better than he ever imagined. He circled his hips and her answering moan went right to his cock. He kept his eyes locked on hers and knew he wasn't going to last. He wanted her to have pleasure…he wanted her to come around his cock…call out his name….  
  
"Touch yourself," he moaned as he reared back again. "Show me…"  
  
Her hand slid down her body and Ron's gaze followed. He caught a glimpse of his cock sliding, wet and glistening from her juices, and growled deep in his chest. Her fingers slid between her pussy lips and he moaned as she rubbed her clit. Her hips rose and fell to meet his, her head thrashed in the mud, and her heels dug into his arse as she tried to force him deeper inside her.  
  
"Fuck," Hermione breathed. "That's so good…so good…going to…Oh my…"  
  
Ron clenched his jaw tightly and drove his cock in and out of her faster; rain cooling his skin as quickly as Hermione heated it. His eyes rolled back in his head and he struggled to focus on her touching herself. She was moaning continuously and when he pushed her hand out of the way and brought her fingers to his mouth to taste her she clenched tightly around him and screamed his name. Her body tightened, her back bowed, and she shook all over. The contractions from her pussy drew Ron over the edge behind her and with a hoarse shout he called out her name. He thrust his hips erratically as he spilled deep inside her and she whimpered a final time as their lips met.  
  
The lay there, joined on the forest floor, and the rain washed away the sweat from their bodies. They exchanged soft kisses until Ron finally pulled out, drawing another moan from Hermione.  
  
"That was…" He pulled her to her knees and wrapped her in his arms. The rain slowly caused the mud to slide from their bodies. "In my dreams it was never this good."  
  
"I'm dirty," Hermione smacked his chest. "Can we go inside the tent now?"  
  
Ron leaned back and grinned at her. "All this to get me into the tent?"  
  
"You're a prat." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Would you rather I have hexed you?"  
  
Ron stood slowly and pulled Hermione to her feet. "No, but if you shagged me to death I wouldn't complain." He grinned as Hermione stifled a yawn. "There's plenty of time for that."  
  
He reached into the tent and found his wand, muttering a cleansing spell over both of them, and a quick drying spell. When they got back into the tent he wrapped Hermione in his arms.  
  
"Was I really your first, Ron?" she whispered as she brushed her lips against his. "You and Lavender—"  
  
"I never wanted to do this with anyone but you, Hermione." He leaned back so he could look into her eyes. "It's always been you."  
  
"Me too," she whispered and snuggled against his chest. "Do you think we could discuss some of my fantasies tomorrow?"  
  
"Fantasies?" Ron's voice cracked. "Merlin…"  
  
Hermione laughed, "I've got about ten years worth."  
  
"Ron Weasley, the Boy Who Died of Pleasure," Ron muttered. "I love you, Hermione."  
  
"I love you too, Ron," she murmured as he pulled her tighter against him. "Go to sleep, we've got a lot to do tomorrow."  
  
"I love it when you boss me around," Ron whispered. "Goodnight, Hermione."  
  
When Harry Potter arrived at the campsite at dawn the next morning he didn't question why Ron's shirt and boxers were outside the tent, nor did he wonder why there was a pair of torn knickers next to the fire.  
  
Instead, he stuck his head in the tent and said, "It's about time!"  
  
"Harry?" Hermione nudged Ron. "You and I have to have a talk about sneaking around."  
  
Harry's eyes widened and he smacked Ron in the head. "You said you wouldn't tell."  
  
"I lied," Ron muttered. "Make us some breakfast would you?"  
  
"Oh, and Harry?" Hermione grinned. "Thanks for not coming with us."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and went to start the fire.


End file.
